


Wanna Be

by Ellerigby13



Series: Sexy Friendly Ghosts - Kinktober 2018 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Corsetry, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Halloween Costumes, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Smut, corset kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellerigby13/pseuds/Ellerigby13
Summary: Fred is not in love.  Especially not with the best witch he knows, even better than the legendary pirate witch Anne Bonny.But, Merlin, is he thankful that they've got corsets in common.Kinktober Day 6: Corset Kink





	Wanna Be

_ Every single evening she's telling me about her day; my feelings get to creeping, I wonder if she feels the same. _

Fred’s breath catches in his throat the moment Hermione crosses the threshold of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, clad in a historically accurate interpretation of the great pirate witch Anne Bonny.

His breath catches again when he realizes that she’s on the arm of his little brother.

It’s not like he should be surprised - Ron’s been mooning over Hermione since before Fred left Hogwarts - but he still feels that dull ache of disappointment deep in the pit of his stomach.

Ever since he got injured in the Battle in spring, Hermione started popping by the shop with Molly to bring him her own cured dittany.  He’s heard about Muggle militiamen falling in love with their nurses, but Hermione’s not his nurse; she’s his friend.

And it’s not that he’s in love with her.

It’s just that every time he sees her he gets this odd sort of airy feeling in his chest, and his cheeks hurt with smiling, and when she talks to him she actually listens, which makes that odd airy feeling bubble up in his chest, and -

Alright.  He’s in love with her.  Merlin.

“Fred, the shop looks  _ amazing _ ,” she half-gasps, letting her arm snake out of Ron’s as she reaches over to pull Fred into a hug.  For his part, Ron stalks off with a sour expression in search of food. “I sometimes forget how much wizards like Halloween.”

For the record, Fred has always enjoyed the spirit of Halloween - back at Hogwarts, Halloween offered the  _ best _ prank opportunities, most of the time because there’d be some sort of chaos going on ( _ thank you, Peeves _ ) to keep the professors from foiling his and George’s plans.

But this Halloween, now that everything has settled in the Wizarding World, he and George have closed down the shop to throw a massive Halloween party, where costumes are required, the more outlandish, the better.  On top of that, Rosmerta’s offered to cater for free, so the firewhiskey and butterbeer flow in spades, and house elves (who are on the clock, he’s assured Hermione, once she finishes squeezing his arm and making his belly erupt with butterflies) wander about serving the best pumpkin pasties and mince pies you could get outside the Burrow.

“Well, a lot of Muggles seem to enjoy Halloween plenty,” he chuckles, taking a step back to glance over her costume, then when Rosmerta passes by with a tray of firewhiskey glasses and a wink for each of them, he takes two and passes one to her.  “You make a great seawitch, you know.”

“Thank you.”  The coy smile that dances across her lips makes that pit in Fred’s stomach deepen.  His eyes linger on the strings of the beaten leather corset wrapped tight around her waist.  “And you make a great…” She’s at a loss for words trying to place his spangled dress robes, the heavy beaded necklaces round his neck.

“Oh, I was Dumbledore earlier, but the beard was getting too hot.  Not too distasteful, I hope.”

The coy smile turns soft.  She brushes her fingertips across his forearm and squeezes down gently.  “I think he’d love it.”

_ Oh bloody hell _ .

“So...you and Ron,” he forces out, bringing himself back to reality, where life is bullshit and the woman he’s absolutely not in love with is absolutely in love with his baby brother.

Except when Fred says the words, Hermione almost grimaces, withdrawing her hand from his arm.

“What?” he asks, feeling his heart rate skyrocket and cursing himself for hoping the horrible thing that he hopes.

“It’s just...Ron and I aren’t...we’re much better as friends.”  The words come tumbling out like sparks off a wand, and the sheepish expression on her face tells Fred that perhaps not all hope is lost.  “I actually…” She pauses, taking a blissful sip of her firewhiskey. Fred swallows the swelling ball of nerves that crawls up his chest. “...I dunno, I sort of had my eye on someone else.”

When he balls up the courage to look at her again, she’s got her eyes on the floor, her arms folded defensively over her chest, and her cheeks burn a vibrant pink.

Oh.   _ Oh _ .

Fred reaches toward her, running his finger over one of the faded gold grommets on her corset before closing his hand over the curve of her waist, pulling her closer.  She looks up, the burning blush spreading downward to her neck. Fred smiles, suddenly remembering that he  _ is _ an evil genius, and there’s no better night for evil geniuses than All Hallows Eve.

* * *

 

Droplets of firewhiskey cling to Hermione’s lips until Fred catches her mouth against his, his hands braced at her waist and his fingers tracing the grooves of her corset.  She kicks the cupboard door closed behind her, the tap of her thick heel clunking audibly against the wood - but neither of them care, or even bother to cast  _ Muffliato _ .  All that matters now is the taste of the other, and the magnetic ache that pulls their pelvises together.

“How long’ve you been waiting to do this, Weasley?” she breathes, grinning a cheeky grin while her hands yank at the belt under his preposterous Dumbledore costume, helping to shed the spangled dress robes as she goes.

“You’ve got no bloody idea, Granger.”  

His voice comes out in something like a growl, before he busies his lips at the base of her neck, one hand still clutching the leather of her corset and the other digging into the laces of her flared pantaloons.  When the canvas garment slides down her hips, Fred slides his hand between her legs, grazing the soft edge of her pussy. He quirks an eyebrow, lifting his head to look her in the eyes.

“No panties?  You naughty  _ witch _ .”

“Tonight’s going better than I’d hoped it would -  _ ah _ .”  She leans her head back into the door sighing as Fred brushes his fingers against her clit, feather light, teasing.  She grows wet for him, her hips rolling into his hand as he slips a finger into her, his thumb pushing her clit in gentle, then a little more vigorous, circles.  “Fuck Fred, that feels  _ good _ .”

“Did you know the corset’d do it for me?” he asks, grunting when she shoves his trousers and underwear down to palm his bare erection.  She wiggles her hips while he slides another finger into her. Fred’s opposite hand closes over the gentle slope of the corset, the gentle slope of her already slim waist, the gentle slope downward to her hips and the gentle slope upward to her breasts.

“Caught you gaping at one in the shop window in Diagon Alley.”  She sighs into his touch and uses her free hand to force his face back up to meet hers at the mouth, her tongue rolling across his lip and between his teeth, dancing with his tongue.  Fred groans into her, reluctantly giving up his hold on her waist to grab the firm swell of her ass so he can press her against the door, the head of his cock keening at her slit. “Fuck me, Fred.   _ Now _ .”

“Yes,  _ captain _ .”  Her pussy closing around him draws a groan from the deepest part of his chest, and he pushes into her slowly, allowing her to acclimate to him and to the position, but based on the noises coming from her mouth, she’s got little problem with it.  “ _ Merlin _ , Hermione…”

She grabs him by the chin, makes him look at her.

“I don’t want to hear anyone’s name but mine leave your lips, Fred Weasley.”

It’s like the mere sound of her voice hardens his cock.  He rocks upward into her, pressing his middle to hers, delighting in the feeling of the roughness of the leather rubbing up against his skin.  With the way that she’s panting, the way that her pussy squeezes around him, he knows he won’t last long.

“Hermione - I’m - I’m - ”

“Don’t you dare come yet, Fred Weasley,” she hisses, her fingers closing over the hair at the nape of his neck, and she yanks his head backward to press her mouth into his throat.  He fights the urge to cry out, fights the twitching of his cock inside her.

And when he feels her pussy clenching him tight, hears a noise erupt from her throat that he never would have placed as hers, feels her riding out the wave of her orgasm with every muscle fluttering at the place where they’re joined, he knows he can’t fight it any longer.

“ _ Fuck _ , Hermione,” he gasps, and lets go.

When his head stops spinning and returns to his neck from some spare cloud at the top of the stratosphere, he rests it against Hermione’s as she slides from his grip and back to the floor.  Somewhere in the fuzziness that used to be his ears, he hears her beginning to laugh.

“Happy Halloween, Fred.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I know I'm late with this, and will be for the rest of the Kinktober prompts, but I am resolved to complete them! Let me know what you think <3  
> Title and lyrics from "Wanna Be" by The Internet.  
> Oh, and the Anne Bonny costume is most likely not historically accurate like Fred says, but I'm gonna claim artistic license because...corsets.


End file.
